A Family Affair
by porcelaindakota
Summary: “If I have to start introducing you as my stepbrother,” Sokka said, “I’m going to kill myself.


The war, by all accounts, had been a terrible time. Homes had been burned down, family members taken away, loved ones killed.

But now the war was over, and it was time to celebrate.

Sokka stood near a heartbreakingly massive buffet, quietly studying the throngs of guests—including ruling delegations from the Water Tribes and the Earth Kingdom—dancing beneath the soft, multicolored globe lights. Next to him, "You Have to Call Me _Prince_" Zuko (who truthfully didn't care about the title, but liked to say it to piss Sokka off) poured himself a goblet of punch.

"How long is this supposed to last?" Sokka asked him, turning back to grab a spicy fish roll.

Zuko shrugged and took a sip of punch: "Hopefully not much longer." The feast had been fun at first, but, Sokka thought bitterly, you could only eat spicy foreign food and pretend to be interested in the long monologues of Fire Nation bureaucrats for so long. He'd been introduced to every lowly government official from there to the North Pole—necessary duties for one of the Avatar's party, but boring nonetheless.

It was in the midst of this thought that, as if from faraway, he heard the tinkle of shattering glass. He turned to see Zuko with his jaw halfway to the floor, eyes focused on the dancers, having not even noticed his dropped punch glass.

"What?" Sokka asked, concerned: if Zuko had some kind of freakish seizure, people would expect Sokka to resuscitate him. Though it would certainly break the monotony of the party.

Zuko shook his head and pointed mutely onto the dance floor, at a particular couple…

Sokka's jaw practically fell off. There, in plain view of everyone, was his father… the illustrious _Hakoda, _chief of the Southern Water Tribe… dancing with Zuko's mother—the runaway Fire Nation princess, and now, the kind-of-sort-of interim Fire Lady.

They were dancing far too close together, Sokka thought. One of Hakoda's hands was at Ursa's waist, the other somewhere between the nape of her neck and her shoulder. Both of her hands were wrapped around his neck. They looked like they were talking quietly, in whispers: their heads were bowed together, barely a breath away from the other. Ursa appeared rather flushed.

"_Frick,_" the two boys said in unison.

* * *

They moved across the hall for a clearer view of their parents, and ended up in front of two doors that opened up onto a balcony. 

"If I have to start introducing you as my stepbrother," Sokka said, "I'm going to kill myself."

Zuko chose to ignore his indignant co-conspirator. "I can't believe my mom would even dance with your dad," he said in a low tone. "There's no way she'd even consider…"

"What, isn't my dad good enough for your mom?"

"Your dad has _braids,_" Zuko said in mild distaste. "My mom hates guys with braids."

Sokka spluttered angrily through the spicy fish in his mouth. "My dad's the chief of the whole Southern Water tribe!" he cried.

"My family, _including my mother, _oversees an entire continent," Zuko cut in. "The Southern Water Tribe is just one city."

Sokka glared at him. "It doesn't matter. My dad's a great leader, and a great warrior! He's good at public speaking, and he's smart and compassionate…" Zuko made a quiet, disparaging noise. Sokka snorted and continued: "In any case, my dad didn't kill my grandfather."

Sokka got one split second to smirk and revel in victory before Zuko gave a frustrated roar and was on top of him, punching every inch of Sokka's body he could reach. Sokka yelped in surprise and fought back. Zuko's fist smashed into his eye; Sokka managed to knee the other boy somewhere around his hip, which only made him yell louder and start punching harder.

Eventually, a pair of large hands seized Sokka by the shoulders and dragged him away from Zuko; he looked up—after he caught his breath—to see it was his father that had intervened, along with Aang and Ursa, who had grabbed Zuko.

"What were you _doing_?" Ursa demanded, crossing her arms and glaring at her son—Zuko seemed to shrink under her unusually stern gaze. "Roughhousing during a ball!"

"That's what I'd like to know," said Hakoda, in a disturbingly calm voice. "Sokka, this feast is all about promoting international relations. What will people think when they see you and the Fire Nation prince brawling?"

Zuko and Sokka locked eyes, and both shouted at the same time: "_It was his fault!_"

Ursa and Hakoda both jumped, startled because of sheer volume, as the boys began arguing again: "You insulted my mother!" "You insulted my dad" "You should never have accused my mother of—" "We work just as hard as you firebending _pansies_—"

A wide-eyed circle had formed around them. "I'll show you what kind of pansy I am!" Zuko yelled, breaking free of his mother's (and Aang's) grip; Sokka lunged at him, with Hakoda still hanging on to his son's shirt, and once again they were punching and kicking with little regard to the startled party-goers.

_Again, _they were pulled off each other.

Both were held in place—several feet apart—until soldiers could come and escort them, scowling, to their rooms.

* * *

"This… is really embarrassing," Sokka said. 

It was about an hour later, and Katara had come to heal his black eye.

"I think you have a bite mark," she replied, studying his forearm. Sure enough, when he tilted his arm so that it caught the moonlight, there was the perfectly formed impression of teeth.

"Me and Zuko," Sokka sighed, "Are going to be horrible stepbrothers."

* * *

A sort of random fancy. Reviews are love!

-sugarland


End file.
